


Across the Hall

by skimmingthesurface



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Brothers, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, One Shot, Post OTGW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmingthesurface/pseuds/skimmingthesurface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg could see from the crack in his bedroom door the sliver of light beneath the door across the hall. Wirt always stayed up way later than him. Sometimes he could see his shadow as he paced his room, flickering into the hallway as a reminder: I’m still here.</p>
<p>Sometimes his brother needed reminders, too, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Hall

The glow-in-the-dark stars on his bedroom ceiling had already faded for the night. Greg listened as the house quieted. His dad had turned out all the lights in the living room ages ago, until the only light Greg could see from the crack in his bedroom door was the thin sliver beneath the door across the hall. He could always count on that little line of yellowy light, ever since he could remember. Even if the door was closed, it was still like a little part of Wirt was reaching out to him, letting him know it was all okay.  


Ever since they’d gotten back from their adventure in The Unknown, the only way Greg could fall asleep was by watching his brother’s light. Wirt always stayed up way later than him. Sometimes he could see his shadow as he paced his room, flickering into the hallway as a reminder: _I’m still here._  


It helped Jason Funderberker, too. Greg rolled onto his side so he could look at the frog tank on his dresser. Wirt called it his “habitat” but it was pretty much a big fish tank without water and some rocks, not rock fact rocks though. There was a light attached to it, for when Jason Funderberker got cold, but for now it was off and their frog slept soundly.  


Something he should be doing himself. Greg shifted onto his back again, counting the blacked out stars on his ceiling so his eyelids could get heavy. He used the steady flow of light from the crack under Wirt’s door to pick out the dark shapes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Greg.  
Until he realized it was gone.  


“Hm?” Greg tilted his head, looking directly into the pitch black hole where the hallway had been.  


For a second, he thought he saw a pair of glowing, unblinking eyes peering out at him from the darkness. He squeezed his eyes shut real tight and counted to five. When he opened them, the eyes were gone. Greg squirmed under his blankets regardless, tugging them up to his chin. His eyes slowly adjusted to the new dark outside his room until he could see the outline of Wirt’s bedroom door.  


He wondered what time it was. Must be late if Wirt had gone to bed already. He rolled until he was hanging over the side of his bed, feeling around on the floor for his flashlight. Well, it was really Wirt’s flashlight. He’d borrowed it one time and accidentally-on-purpose forgot to give it back. So far his brother hadn’t seemed to notice.  


Now just where was that flashlight of his? His cheeks were starting to get warm and his head heavy from hanging upside down so long. Greg wiggled down a little further, squinting at the dark under his bed with only one hand keeping him from tumbling onto the floor.  


“Aha! Tryin’ to give me the slip, aren’t you?” he whispered as his fingers bumped the flashlight further away, clumsily sliding it around until he had it by the end with the light bulb. “Gotcha!”  


His socked feet scrambled against the mattress while he heaved himself up. Landing rightside up with the flashlight clutched in hand, he smiled to himself. Victory. He grabbed the alarm clock from his bedside table and turned the flashlight on. Still learning how to tell time in school, Greg hummed as he counted the number of dots to pinpoint which ones the hands were pointing to.  


It was two dots past twelve o’clock, he realized, and since it wasn’t lunch time, that meant it must be midnight. “Happy New Year!” he cheered quietly – despite it being the middle of November – and waved his arms up and down. The light from the flashlight bounced all around his room. “Oops.” He turned it off, then set it and the clock back down on the table.  


Midnight was very, very late. It was definitely time for sleep now. Greg tucked himself in real good, wrapping his sheets around himself like a cocoon. He closed his eyes and waited to fall asleep.  


…It was taking too long. Greg’s eyes popped back open, immediately darting to the hallway to look at the light under Wirt’s door- except it was dark. Right. Wirt had gone to sleep just like he was supposed to be trying to do.  


That was easier said than done, though, especially when he felt the darkness in the hallway watching him while he watched it back. Greg frowned. Why couldn’t Wirt have fallen asleep with the light on?  


Greg sighed and tried to settle down. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner morning would come and the sooner he could have some waffles. Ooh… waffles. Yes. Definitely time to fall asleep. Greg closed his eyes again. He kept them closed for a lot longer this time, but still didn’t actually fall asleep. He was pretty sure he almost did twice, but every time his body felt far away and time disappeared he jerked back awake, though he didn’t open his eyes. Not until he heard something.  


He blinked, still tied up in his cocoon and facing the hallway. The sound came from out there. Greg listened, wondering if gnomes had come to grant them wishes in their sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut and quickly wished that he was a magical tiger that could whistle, just in case they were on their way. Oh, but he was hungry now from thinking about waffles earlier… maybe he should wish for endless waffles instead. With strawberries on top. And whipped cream.  


The noise came again – a very faint thump sound – but it wasn’t the gnomes.  


His arms popped out of the blankets so he could sit up. The sound had come from Wirt’s room. He kicked away the rest of the sheets and slid off his bed. On his tiptoes, he crept to his bedroom door and eased it open a bit more. It was still dark under the door, but he heard Wirt mumbling. Maybe he was looking for his flashlight.  


Greg fetched it, holding it close to his chest as he crossed the pitch black hall. Forgoing the polite thing to do by knocking, he turned the doorknob and peeked into his brother’s room. It was super dark in there, too, but he was pretty sure he’d be able to see if Wirt was moving. It had gotten really dark in The Unknown some nights, but Greg had always been able to see his brother walking beside him.  


“Wirt?” he whispered. “Are you sleeping?”  


The rustling of sheets and a soft grunt answered him. Greg took that as a no. He headed over to Wirt’s bed, stumbling over books and clothes along the way. The closer he got, the better he could make out the shape of his brother curled up on his side facing the wall.  


“Sorry I took your flashlight, Wirt. Wirt?” Greg prodded, but this time nothing happened.  


Oh. So maybe that grunt had been a yes after all. Except Wirt was breathing awfully funny for someone who was supposed to be asleep. It sounded like the way he talked when he was embarrassed or nervous or scared. He rolled over suddenly, shaking his bed so the headboard bumped against the wall with another _thump_ , and tried to turn himself into a very small ball. When Greg leaned in, he could see his pinched features, eyebrows twisting up and down like something was hurting him.  


“Greg,” he gritted out and the little boy jumped.  


“Yeah?” he answered automatically, even though it was silly.  


Wirt was dreaming. He didn’t really know he was there. Greg set the flashlight down on the floor, then pulled himself up onto the edge of the bed. He patted Wirt’s shoulder, but instead of comforting him, it only seemed to make it worse. Greg worried that he’d broken him when his face turned so sad. Not embarrassed or nervous or even scared anymore. Just so, so sad.  


“No.” It was all he said, a bubble of a syllable that sounded like a raindrop, and not one that was made up of lemon drops or gum drops.  


“It’s okay, Wirt,” he told him, petting his hair in the same way he liked whenever he didn’t feel very good. “Don’t be sad.”  


Unbidden, the memory of Wirt balled up in the snow flashed in his mind. All the branches tugging on him, pulling him down into the snow, down into the ground, down somewhere Greg was pretty sure he couldn’t get to all because he was a bad leader and took a nap and played with cloud people instead of making sure his big brother got home like he’d asked him to. Wirt had been sad then. Too sad to go home even with his help. Greg hadn’t been able to fix him on his own.  


Wirt sniffed in his sleep. Greg kept petting him. He remembered when Wirt found him, after he’d gone to beat The Beast so they could go home together, and instead of being happy about the golden honeycomb, the silver spider web, and the sun in a cup, Wirt had cried. He’d beaten all The Beast’s tasks so that they could go home and he still hadn’t been a good enough leader.  


“Don’t worry, Wirt. I’ll get better. You’ll see. I’m gonna make sure you’re never, ever sad again and that’s a rock fact,” he promised. “I won’t let you get too lost.”  


The tension holding his brother in its ball eased. Greg watched the lines on his face smooth over. As he uncurled, he shifted onto his back, still angled towards his little brother. Greg scooted closer. There was enough room now for him to lie down next to him. He petted his head until his breathing stopped sounding so shallow, and even then he only stopped so he could lay his arm across his brother’s chest. His fingers curled around Wirt’s shoulder and he held on. He was going to hold on all night if he had to, if it kept Wirt feeling safe and found.  


He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must’ve because the next time he opened his eyes it was morning and somehow Wirt’s blankets had wound up on top of him even though he was pretty sure it had been the other way around last he checked. Another thing that had switched itself sometime in the night was him and Wirt. It was now his brother’s arm wrapped tight around him, holding him instead.  


Wirt’s eyebrows were furrowed, mouth set in a frown of determination. It was a look that said nothing was getting past him. A serious look for a serious brother. Greg beamed. The urge to fidget rose up in him, but he remained perfectly still – a feat the six-year-old couldn’t usually manage at any time of day, though especially in the mornings – and waited for Wirt’s eyes to start scrunching and squint open. Wirt was really, really not a morning person. Briefly, Greg wondered if it was because he had so many bad dreams that ruined his sleep.  


Slowly, Wirt blinked into the waking world. Sleep still heavy in his gaze. Once he was a awake enough that Greg could see himself reflected in his big brother’s dark brown eyes, he decided he’d been patient long enough and it was time to start the day. But first he had a serious question.  


“Can we have waffles for breakfast?” he whispered.  


Wirt sighed and closed his eyes again, worrying Greg a bit because he thought he’d gone back to sleep and he couldn’t do that because he really wanted waffles so that would be bad, but then Wirt smiled with a huff that was maybe, probably a laugh. “Waffles sound great.”  


“Really?”  


“Yeah, really.” He shifted a bit, his hold on Greg becoming more of a hug. “‘S a good morning for waffles.”  


Greg grinned, pleased when Wirt blinked and caught sight of it. “ _Every_ morning’s a good morning for waffles.”  


“Hm… That a rock fact?”  


“Nope. Just a regular, ol’ fact. Rock facts aren’t one hundred percent true and I already used a true one last night, so until I reset them all the rest of my rock facts aren’t true. Don’t tell anyone else though. It’s a secret.”  


“Oh.” Wirt rolled onto his back, allowing both him and Greg to sit up freely. “Wait. What’d you use it on?”  


“I used it on you,” Greg told him matter-of-factly, then took one look at his brother’s bed head and burst into a fit of giggles. “Your hair looks like a funny chicken!”  


“What?” He reached up to try and pat it down, though it didn’t do much. “That better?”  


“No,” he laughed.  


Wirt ran his fingers through his hair, frowning at him. “Whatever. If you want your waffles, you’re gonna have to put up with my chicken hair.” He ruffled Greg’s hair in retaliation, then gave up when the younger boy took it upon himself to make his hair as messy as possible. “Want to help me make the batter?”  


“Can Jason Funderberker help, too?”  


“Sure.”  


“Yeah!” Greg bounced out of bed and out the door to fetch their frog.  


Wirt slid out from under the sheets and rolled his shoulders. He took a moment to stretch, his longer limbs protesting being curled up in a ball all night and unable to move about as freely as Greg’s. He started after him, but tripped over something on the floor by his bed.  


“ _Ow._ What-? Oh, my flashlight.” He picked it up. “Wondered where that went.”  


“Wirt, come on! Waffles!”  


“Coming!” he called back, setting the flashlight on his nightstand, then followed his brother across the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my own personal headcanon that Greg is 6 and Wirt is 15 during the events of OTGW, though that's not necessarily vital to this story. While this one shot does stand alone, it's sort of a precursor to a longer, crazier fic that I'm working on. I plan on writing other little one shots like this that will also tie into the motivations and universe I'm building for the long, crazy fic, but they'll all work as stand alones, too. I think. That's the plan anyway. 
> 
> Technically, this isn't the first thing I've written for OTGW, but it is the first thing I've posted for it, so I hope I did the characters justice and that you enjoyed this little blurb.


End file.
